Ran some errands in the mid-afternoon, that took me to my office and to downtown Palo Alto. They were cleaning the carpets in my workplace. My office smelled strange and stuffy. Went to the nearby Fry's, which was noisy and obnoxious and made me grumpy. Fry's is a Siicon Valley institution, now available elsewhere in California. It is a love-hate relationship we all have with Fry's. I'm a crusty SV old-timer, so I remember the old location on the Lawrence Expwy, and when the Palo Alto one was tiny and did not sell appliances. Chips and dips, the other kind of chips and dips, pr0n, electronic equipment, all with the low-rent pay-my-employees-as-minimally-as-I-can approach of Randy Fry.
Fry's did not have what I needed, so I fled gratefully to the Apple store in the aforementioned downtown PA, which was playing a track from the latest William Orbit record and was generally much less psychically alarming. Downtown PA looked prosperous, definitely in post-bust recuperation.
Husband & I missed our weekly dinner date on Wednesday, so we're having it tonight. Sushi is the plan.
Now attempting to emit a second draft of "Tradition & Protocol" part 1, with gratitude toward the people who read the first draft for me yesterday.
Soundtrack today is the aforemention M-man. I cannot find my other recording of the clarinet concerto, however. I have a period instruments one and I swear to gawd I had another one with modern instruments and I cannot freakin' find it. I really ought to have finished Project Rip Everything to Disk years ago. This might count as procrastination, but I am actually having that hot-on-the-trail feeling that I get just before finishing a story for pseudo-publication. Pant, pant. Write, write.
Alfred Brendel vs Murray Perahia: discuss.